


I'll boil easier than you, crush my bones into glue (I'm a go-getter)

by girlsarewolves



Series: exchanges [46]
Category: Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, DC Extended Universe, Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Choking, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Femdom, Non-Consensual Groping, Red Kryptonite, Red Kryptonite Kara Danvers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:07:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27344797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlsarewolves/pseuds/girlsarewolves
Summary: It was always Superman that set him off. Broad shoulders and rippling muscles and strong, square jaw that made him feel so weak and small and five, eleven, sixteen years old.Not Supergirl. But goddesses were just as cruel, weren’t they? Maybe worse. Always punishing the victims when they couldn’t punish their lovers, brothers, uncles. Haughty and vicious things, just the same.
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lex Luthor Jr.
Series: exchanges [46]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1269893
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7
Collections: Femdom Exchange 2020





	I'll boil easier than you, crush my bones into glue (I'm a go-getter)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheYearOfTheWolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheYearOfTheWolf/gifts).



* * *

It’s not really her.

It’s more her than he’s ever seen her be.

It was always Superman that set him off. Broad shoulders and rippling muscles and strong, square jaw that made him feel so weak and small and five, eleven, sixteen years old.

Not Supergirl. But goddesses were just as cruel, weren’t they? Maybe worse. Always punishing the victims when they couldn’t punish their lovers, brothers, uncles. Haughty and vicious things, just the same.

Those fingers wrapped around his neck  _ squeeze _ , and his vision swims with stars. Blackness creeping in. Oh, is this what it feels like in those agonizing moments before you drown? But she won’t let him swallow the water down. Just keeps holding until his lungs are burning and the fear of dying chills him to the bone.

“Is this what knowledge without power feels like, Alexander?”

Her fingers release, and he’s gasping, choking on oxygen as he tries to breathe it in as fast as possible so it will wash away the panic. No one has called him that since freshman year at college, but he can’t exactly get Supergirl expelled, can he?

Red glows underneath her skin. Red glows like fire crackling through her. She’s nothing but the fire that consumed her planet, isn’t she? Fire and death and destruction. A fucking supernova. It’s magnificent and terrifying.

He didn’t see this coming, not at all. Even in his wildest nightmares of the fallout from killing the god. Never saw her coming, not like this.

Blindspot. Hindsight is twenty-twenty. 

“This is the quietest I think you’ve ever been. Has Lex Luthor finally run out of words?” She’s laughing at him. The sound is so soft and so charming and more terrifying than her raw anger or Clark Jo’s pious judgment. Her lips are pressed to his ear when she speaks, but she pulls back to look him in the eye when she laughs. 

Lex can’t help thinking she’s beautiful. Like a lioness. Does the gazelle ever marvel at how lovely its predator is?

“Well, you did tell me to shut my worthless mouth before choking me.” His voice sounds rough and raw to his own ears. The throbbing echo left by her vice-like grip promises bruises. If he lasts the night, anyway.

Kara slaps him. It’s light. Barely a sting. She’s  _ mocking _ him.

“Ow.” Deadpan. The struggle to get the word out ruins the effect.

She smirks. A cruel twist of her perfect mouth. Fingers stroke over his pulse. She doesn’t need to feel it racing though. Can undoubtedly hear it; every tiny, traitorous sound of his body trapped in this moment. Does she smell his fear, too? The shame? The lust? Those blue eyes can see it all, too, the panic she has his insides twisting and racing. Could watch the blood flow down, down, down if she wanted. The way she looks at him makes him feel exposed.

He doesn’t feel naked. He feels like his skull is cracked open so all his thoughts are scattered about, for her to know and devour and use against him.

This  _ is _ what knowledge without power feels like.

“Oh, Alexander. Do you want my cousin, too?” Her voice is cloying pity. That smirk leans in until it’s pressed just under his earlobe. “Maybe you were just angry you couldn’t have a god all to yourself. So the world shouldn’t have him, either. Were you going to kill me, too, if you’d gotten away with it? I thought it was the gods who were jealous, not the believers.”

Her hands are on his throat, at his chest, gripping his hips. He feels pinned down. Jugular moments from being ripped, and then he’s dead meat, just a meal. Blood and flesh and bone and soul, all consumed. 

Will she eat his sins, too?

“It’s all right, Alexander. I can be a merciful god.” Her lips are at his throat; there are strong, blunt teeth waiting behind them. “I can give you what you so desperately don’t want anyone to know you covet.” She bites without force, but it still hurts the tender, bruising flesh of his neck. One hand is sliding down, under denim, under cotton, until her skin is on his skin, and she’s curling her fingers around his cock. “Hhm, is it pain or fear that gets you this hard?”

Lex squeezes his eyes shut. The corners leak. He thinks he might vomit. But he’ll probably come first, like a pathetic teenager who just hit puberty. 

This isn’t her.

He almost wishes it was, though. That’s the sad part. It’d make everything so much easier. Not exactly cut and dry. Nothing ever is, is it? But it’d be close.

“Kara-”

The fingers around his cock squeeze a little too tight, and she hisses in his ear, “No. You don’t get to call me that. Sad, pitiful, little humans don’t call gods by their true names.” Her grip eases, and her thumb smears the pre-cum that’s leaked out. She’s smirking again when she tells him, “What do you call me?”

“Supergirl,” he whimpers. Thinking is becoming harder. No, thinking is easy. Always easy. Focusing is the hard part. Forming words, tying together sentences. He wants to tell her this is red kryptonite, that she’s been here before, that she’s a ticking time bomb. 

That if she survives long enough for her sister and her cousin and the Martian to find her and extract the infection, she’s going to remember every awful, ugly moment between them.

Her teeth tug on his earlobe. Those fingers are stroking him. It’s all so  _ gentle _ , it makes that urge to vomit worse than the fear and the force did. 

Lex has always known he’s a sinner. What’s a little more sinning?

* * *


End file.
